


never again

by empires



Series: Things We Carry [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DC Animated Universe, DCU, DCU (Animated), DCU (Comics), Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Child Abuse, M/M, Violence, continued flashback for an unfinished series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-10 15:18:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5591197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/empires/pseuds/empires
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>He had been panicked, stuck to the floor, shouts coming from the other side of the heavy wooden door, and Jason pushed with everything he had and went crashing into the wall. Free, he’d rolled through the window and ran faster than he ever had in his life, afraid that he’d be caught, afraid that someone would know, afraid that someone would tell Willis that he didn’t just sense magic.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jason could do magic too.</em>
</p><p>A peek into what happened next.</p>
            </blockquote>





	never again

**Author's Note:**

> Sidestory for the "Things We Carry series". Follows the flashback sequence in part 3, _it’s a struggle to be a good boy_. None of these things have been ported to AO3 yet. I should get on that....
> 
> collection prompt: redeem

“Yeah,” the guy scratched at his shoulders, eyes twitching down to the alley’s shadowed end then to the dumpster again. “The Rot Worshipers. Something’s going down with them, man, and no one knows what it is. Just something they needed got stolen night before last. They’re looking for the guy. They all are,” he finished, voice hushed.

“Them crazies?” Willis laughed. “I doubt it. The King of Rot is a fucking joke in this town. Whoever pulled one over on them is probably smarter than their wacked-out priests. Probably skipped town by now.”

It had been two weeks since Jason crept onto the estate and stole the small pouch of stones. The first few days had been tense with Willis refusing to leave the apartment. Jason had been making deliveries on his own, stomach sick with fear that something would happen, someone would know what he did in that old house. He was afraid Willis learn that his son could do magic. That someone would find out what they’d been up too. But the penny never dropped, and life had returned to normal.

Tonight, he and Willis were making a delivery at the edge of territories. The night air was cold and clear. It flew straight to Jason's the head after the day spent in the musk and cigarette smoke hanging in the apartment. It was definitely getting to Willis who kept crowing about all the things he would’ve done if he had the guts to make a move in the chemical district.

“We all know that Rot is in a bad way," he said, warming up to his own voice. "No, you want to get anywhere in this town, you got to go through the Black Masks. And if you were the lucky sonovabitch that has what they want, well, you better get to church and pray. It’s the only way you’ll get a fair deal out of them. Now if it were me...."

Jason’s attention was pulled to the other end of the alley. The sparse snow flurry spiraling down from the sky seemed slow its fall until it stilled in the air. Fog lifted up from the ground at the edge and began pooling over itself in thick, filthy waves. It swirled down the alley in a way that was wrong, in a way nothing should move before stilling, thick and sudden.

“Willis. Sorry, sir, but something. There’s something.” He stopped trying to figure out what to say to the man and was shoved into the brick for his trouble.

“Spit it out.”

“There’s something wrong,” he muttered.

“I’m going to need you to be specific, Jason. We talked about this,” Willis growled. “What is it and where?”

“I. I don’t think. I can’t tell. Maybe back there?” He nodded back in the alley.

“There’s nothing back there, boy,” Willis said after peering in that direction. “You on the fritz?”

Jason shook his head knowing he shouldn’t say another word, not even when his skin began to prickle. Then he heard it again, or felt it, the absence of sound.

“I’d say he was more inexperienced. Untrained,” called a smooth voice from out of the dark.

Six men advanced from the shadows. They moved in unison, a cloned platoon wearing the same black tailored suit and ties that seemed standard to Gotham’s made men. Jason’s pulse began thundering in his chest. These guys radiated that horrible sound he’d heard all those weeks ago. But even then, Jason would have known they weren’t human. Black masks that clung to their faces like tar. Black Mask Demons.

“Which is why we had no trouble tracking you down, Willis Todd.”

Jason flinched when his father swung around on him, fury blazing. He shook Jason, raised his fist. “You—!”

“We were under the impression that a man such as yourself recognized value,” said the demon in a low voice that crawled over the skin. “You may need to redeem that chip before the night is through.”

Willis turned slowly, dropping his son to the ground. “What do you mean?”

“We are here to extend an invitation to you.” The demon pulled something from his pocket. “Here.” He flips it in the air. It falls into Willis open palm, a gold coin heavy and shining in the gloom. Jason choked back a gasp when caught a better look at the flame pressed into the coin. It resembled the one he stole for Willis those few nights ago. “This doubloon ensures your entry into the most exclusive poker game in all of Gotham.”

“Thanks,” said Willis, fingers closing over the coin. “But I’m not a gambling man.”

The demon’s mask parts, a strange, stretching motion that reveals jagged teeth. “Oh, but the boss thinks you are. The game is tonight, in an hour to be exact. We are your escorts.”

It was there in his every move, the urge to run. It crawled over his face, twitched at his fingers. He stepped backwards towards the open end of the alley way. The other figures melted back into the shadows and Jason could feel them reappear behind them. Willis' shoulders sagged understanding that there was nowhere to run. When he looked up, his eyes were lit by a mad light Jason recognized, the one that took over when he got an idea. “You know what. I’ve got some business to discuss with your boss. A good business opportunity,” he said, shoving his hand into his pocket.

“A wise decision as there would be no better time to speak to the Black Mask. And timely as well,” said the demon. “We have time enough for you to stop by your favorite church. Or parrish.” He snapped his fingers and the demons melted out of the shadows. An elegant town car cruised to the sidewalk. The door opened. “If you will, Mr. Todd.”

The first step looked like the hardest. Willis shifted weight between legs that trembled, still felt the need to run, but Willis walked to the car and climbed inside. Jason slumped against the brick wall begging the shadows to take him. The chill of the wet ground began soaking into his jeans and his breathing grew shallow so as to blend into the wall. The other black masks walked past him. Their footsteps were silent, barely disturbing the ground.

The demon closed the door behind his father. “Bring the boy,” it said, walking around to the other side. “Kill the others.”


End file.
